LETTER XXIV
MISS CLARISSA HARLOWE, TO MISS HOWEFRIDAY, MAY 12.
I must be silent, my exalted friend, under praises that oppress my heartwith a consciousness of not deserving them; at the same time that thegenerous design of those praises raises and comforts it: for it is acharming thing to stand high in the opinion of those we love; and to findthat there are souls that can carry their friendships beyond accidents,beyond body and ties of blood. Whatever, my dearest creature, is myshining-time, the time of a friend's adversity is yours. And it would bealmost a fault in me to regret those afflictions, which give you anopportunity so gloriously to exert those qualities, which not onlyennoble our sex, but dignify human nature.
But let me proceed to subjects less agreeable.
I am sorry you have reason to think Singleton's projects are not at anend. But who knows what the sailor had to propose?--Yet had any goodbeen intended me, this method would hardly have been fallen upon.
Depend upon it, my dear, your letters shall be safe.
I have made a handle of Mr. Lovelace's bold attempt and freedom, as Itold you I would, to keep him ever since at a distance, that I may havean opportunity to see the success of the application to my uncle, and tobe at liberty to embrace any favourable overtures that may arise from it.Yet he has been very importunate, and twice brought Mr. Mennell from Mrs.Fretchvill to talk about the house.--If I should be obliged to make upwith him again, I shall think I am always doing myself a spite.
As to what you mention of his newly-detected crimes; and your advice toattach Dorcas to my interest; and to come at some of his letters; thesethings will require more or less of my attention, as I may hope favour ornot from my uncle Harlowe.
I am sorry that my poor Hannah continues ill. Pray, my dear, informyourself, and let me know, whether she wants any thing that befits hercase.
I will not close this letter till to-morrow is over; for I am resolved togo to church; and this as well for the sake of my duty, as to see if I amat liberty to go out when I please without being attended or accompanied.
SUNDAY, MAY 14.
I have not been able to avoid a short debate with Mr. Lovelace. I hadordered a coach to the door. When I had noticed that it was come, I wentout of my chamber to go to it; but met him dressed on the stairs head,with a book in his hand, but without his hat and sword. He asked, withan air very solemn yet respectful, if I were going abroad. I told him Iwas. He desired leave to attend me, if I were going to church. Irefused him. And then he complained heavily of my treatment of him; anddeclared that he would not live such another week as the past, for theworld.
I owned to him very frankly, that I had made an application to myfriends; and that I was resolved to keep myself to myself till I knew theissue of it.
He coloured, and seemed surprised. But checking himself in something hewas going to say, he pleaded my danger from Singleton, and again desiredto attend me.
And then he told me, that Mrs. Fretchville had desired to continue afortnight longer in the house. She found, said he, that I was unable todetermine about entering upon it; and now who knows when such a vapourishcreature will come to a resolution? This, Madam, has been an unhappyweek; for had I not stood upon such bad terms with you, you might havebeen new mistress of that house; and probably had my cousin Montague, ifnot Lady Betty, actually with you.
And so, Sir, taking all you say for granted, your cousin Montague cannotcome to Mrs. Sinclair's? What, pray, is her objection to Mrs.Sinclair's? Is this house fit for me to live in a month or two, and notfit for any of your relations for a few days?--And Mrs. Fretchville hastaken more time too!--Then, pushing by him, I hurried down stairs.
He called to Dorcas to bring him his sword and hat; and following me downinto the passage, placed himself between me and the door; and againdesired leave to attend me.
Mrs. Sinclair came out at that instant, and asked me, if I did not choosea dish of chocolate?
I wish, Mrs. Sinclair, said I, you would take this man in with you toyour chocolate. I don't know whether I am at liberty to stir out withouthis leave or not.
Then turning to him, I asked, if he kept me there his prisoner?
Dorcas just then bringing him his sword and hat, he opened the street-door, and taking my reluctant hand, led me, in a very obsequious manner,to the coach. People passing by, stopped, stared, and whispered--But heis so graceful in his person and dress, that he generally takes everyeye.
I was uneasy to be so gazed at; and he stepped in after me, and thecoachman drove to St. Paul's.
He was very full of assiduities all the way; while I was as reserved aspossible: and when I returned, dined, as I had done the greatest part ofthe week, by myself.
He told me, upon my resolving to do so, that although he would continuehis passive observance till I knew the issue of my application, yet Imust expect, that then I should not rest one moment till I had fixed hishappy day: for that his very soul was fretted with my slights,resentments, and delays.
A wretch! when can I say, to my infinite regret, on a double account,that all he complains of is owing to himself!
O that I may have good tidings from my uncle!
Adieu, my dearest friend--This shall lie ready for an exchange (as I hopefor one to-morrow from you) that will decide, as I may say, the destinyof
YourCLARISSA HARLOWE.
Clarissa Harlowe; or the history of a young lady — Volume 4 Page 26
